


Return to Nuthanger Farm

by dustnik



Category: Watership Down - Richard Adams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustnik/pseuds/dustnik
Summary: Set shortly after the epic battle with the Efrafans. A second raid on Nuthanger Farm is undertaken to free Laurel, the buck returned to the hutch on the night of the others’ escape.





	1. Chapter 1

One evening in early autumn, the down was dotted with rabbits: some eating, others playing, and the rest merely enjoying the last of the sun’s waning rays. Haystack, one of three rabbits brought back from Nuthanger Farm, nibbled grass beside the other hutch doe, Clover. They didn’t stray far from the holes, still wary of life in the open. Although they were happy in their new home, they would never be quite like wild rabbits. They watched Clover’s kittens frolicking in the fallen leaves. It was a point of pride with them that a box doe had born the warren’s first litter. “Hyzenthlay and Vilthuril will both kindle soon,” Haystack remarked.

“What about you?” the other asked. “Boxwood must be anxious to start a family of his own.”

Haystack lowered her head, feeling dejected. “I’m afraid I can’t think about anything now but poor Laurel.” The buck had been captured and returned to the hutch on the night of the raid. “We have this wonderful life here while he sits alone in the box. He must wonder what’s become of us all.”

Clover too looked downcast at the mention of their old friend. Then she asked, “You’re not thinking of going back for him?”

“How could I?” Haystack answered despondently. “I’m only a doe.”

“Why don’t you ask Hazel-rah? He’s the chief rabbit and will know what’s best to be done.”

Haystack hopped a few steps away to consider the idea. While she thought Hazel a very brave and wise leader, she knew the earlier escape from the farm had nearly cost him his life. She spotted him a short distance away combing his ears and approached him. “If you please, sir,” she began nervously, “I wondered if I might be allowed to speak with you.”

“Certainly,” Hazel agreed pleasantly.

The doe almost lost her nerve, but she remembered why she was there and gathered her courage. “It’s about Laurel, sir.”

“Laurel?”

“He’s the buck that was caught by the Nuthanger farmer and returned to the box.”

“Yes, I remember now.”

Haystack hesitated. “I know how much he wanted to be here.”

“Is Laurel your mate?”

“No, sir.”

“But you’d like to have him with us.”

“We all would—the box rabbits, I mean.”

“I see. Well, let me think on it. And now I believe I’ll go down.”

***

The next day, a thunderstorm kept all the rabbits underground during morning silflay. Most gathered in the damaged Honeycomb to wait it out. There was a hole in one end of the roof now, and the rain poured in, flowing down a special run away from the sleeping burrows. Spotting Haystack, Hazel recalled their conversation of the night before. He decided to bring it up to the others for their thoughts on the matter. “I’ve been reminded that a buck was captured and returned to the box during our escape from Nuthanger Farm. It does seem a shame to leave him behind.”

Bigwig exploded. “Frithrah! Are you suggesting that we risk our lives by going back into that barn with those embleer cats and dog roaming about? Not to mention any elil we might meet along the way. Well, I’m not coming.”

Silver added, “Nor I. We have more than enough bucks here already. There’s no reason to go looking for more.”

Hazel noted Haystack and Clover’s forlorn expressions and continued. “We _did_ promise to get him out and bring him here,” he reminded them.

“I’ll go,” Groundsel volunteered quickly. He was anxious to prove his worth to his new companions, many of whom still distrusted him.

“And me,” Blackavar offered. “I know what it’s like to be held captive.”

“I-I’ll come as well.” It was Boxwood, the other hutch buck.

Hazel sensed his fear and knew his presence would only add to the danger of the mission. “I think you should stay here. You don’t understand our ways.”

Boxwood looked relieved.

There was a pause. Finally, Blackberry spoke, “Well, if we’re going to do this thing, I suppose I’d better go. Someone needs to know how to open the box when we get there.”

“Quite right,” agreed Hazel. “I’ll be coming myself, of course.”

His declaration was met with a flurry of protests of which Bigwig’s was the loudest. “Don’t be a fool! You were shot and nearly died the last time, and it’s left you rather lame. You couldn’t outrun a cat now, and we don’t want to risk losing our chief rabbit.”

Hazel saw the sense in his words and acquiesced. “But it will require at least one other.”

“I’ll go, Hazel-rah, if you think we must.”

Everyone looked about, wondering who had spoken. “Oh, uh—Pipkin. That’s very good of you, old chap, but not this time.”

“What good would he be to anyone?” Groundsel whispered loudly to Thistle, another Efrafan buck. “A man couldn’t see him, and a fox wouldn’t want him.”

“No!” Fiver, sitting beside the heavily pregnant Vilthuril, spoke vehemently, “Pipkin must go.”

Hazel turned to his brother. “Are you sure?”

“He needs to come if they’re to have any chance of success.”

The Sandleford rabbits had learned to rely on Fiver’s intuition and accepted it now without question. “That’s good enough for me,” Hazel declared. “I think they should leave tonight Fu Inlé—unless you feel differently.”

Fiver looked thoughtful. “No. I think it will be alright.”

“Then tonight it is.”

The rain stopped by noon, and later the moon rose full and bright. The rabbits gathered outside the holes to see the little party off. Groundsel spoke confidently, “There’s no reason to worry. We’ll be back before morning.”

“I still think it’s a fool’s errand,” Bigwig grumbled. “You’re risking your lives to rescue one miserable buck and bring him back here.”

“The same way you did for me,” Blackavar reminded him.

“Yes, well … ”

“I think it’s time we were leaving,” Blackberry prompted.

Pipkin pulled up alongside Groundsel, and the four made their way down the hill. The rest watched until they disappeared from sight and went underground to await their return. Hazel had an idea to pass the time. “Dandelion, why don’t you tell us a story?”

Dandelion thought a moment. “Do you know the one about the flying rabbit?”

The others merely stared blankly back at him. “A flying rabbit?” Hazel repeated doubtfully. “Well, I think we’d better hear that one.”


	2. Chapter 2

_King Darzin was still angry at El-ahrairah for tricking him into giving away all his lettuces. Now he was more determined than ever to protect his cabbages. As he ruled over the biggest and richest of the animal cities in the world, he was able to position guards around his vegetables, day and night. El-ahrairah had watched patiently as the cabbages grew and ripened. Now they were ready to be eaten, but he could see no safe way into the garden. One day, the King spotted him nearby and called out to him, “Go away, El-ahrairah, for you will not steal any of my delicious cabbages.”_

_“Your Highness, I would not dream of doing such a thing.”_

_“Then why are you here?”_

_El-ahrairah thought quickly. “I’ve seen something that I can’t understand. I hoped you might be able to explain it.”_

_“Well, what is it then?”_

_“I saw a rabbit fly.”_

_King Darzin fixed him with a look of disbelief. “There’s no such thing as a flying rabbit,” he scoffed._

_“But I saw it.”_

_“Nonsense!”_

_“It’s true.”_

_“Impossible!”_

_“Would you be willing to bet your cabbages on it?”_

_“If I do, what will you give me when you lose?”_

_“I promise that no rabbit will ever enter your garden again.”_

_The King considered the wager and agreed. “I accept, but none of your tricks now.”_

_El-ahrairah assured him, “If you come tomorrow Ni-Frith, you will see for yourself.” He then headed back to the warren in search of his stalwart friend, Rabscuttle. The two spoke for a long while before setting off together._

_They soon came upon a kestrel searching for beetles in the tall grass. “What you want?” the bird asked warily, using the hedgerow vernacular common to all animals._

_“I was just admiring your magnificent wings,” El-ahrairah replied in awe. “I think you must be an exceptional flyer.”_

_The bird puffed up with pleasure._

_Rabscuttle whispered to El-ahrairah who repeated his words. “He said it’s only because of your feathers, and even a rabbit could fly with them.”_

_“Bunnies no have wings. They no fly.”_

_El-ahrairah continued, “He doesn’t believe you could fly either covered in fur with long ears and a tail like ours.”_

_“I fly! I fly!” he insisted._

_Again, Rabscuttle turned to his friend while the bird struggled in vain to hear. “What he say now?”_

_“He said he won’t believe it without seeing it for himself.”_

_The bird seemed at a loss at how to convince him._

_El-ahrairah hit upon the answer. “I know how to settle this. Tomorrow Ni-Frith, we could dress you up as a rabbit, and then you could show him.”_

_The kestrel was anxious to prove his superiority and quickly agreed to the plan. He then flew off leaving the two rabbits staring after him as he soared high above the trees. When at last he was gone from sight, they got to work hollowing out a spot in the tall grass large enough to conceal the bird. Next, they dug a shallow scrape beside it. Finally, satisfied with their efforts, they returned to their burrow and slept._

_The following day when Frith had reached its highest point in the sky, El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle returned to the clearing where they had found the kestrel. The bird was waiting, hopping from one spot to another. “I come back. Show how I fly dressed like bunny.”_

_Having remembered his trick of covering a clay rabbit in fur to fool a hungry pike, El-ahrairah began pulling tufts from his belly and attached them to the bird’s body. Rabscuttle joined in, and soon the kestrel was covered in rabbit fur._

_“I look like bunny?”_

_“Almost.” The rabbits found dock leaves and cow parsley to serve in place of ears and tail._

_The bird was becoming impatient. “I go now?”_

_“Not yet.” El-ahrairah explained, “King Darzin has heard of your remarkable ability and wishes to see too.”_

_The kestrel appeared immensely proud of that._

_“I will go now and bring him here. Until then, you must stay hidden in that hollow in the ground.” He indicated the small depression that he and Rabscuttle had dug the previous day. “Do not show yourself when we return or make any sound. When you feel a nudge, you will fly away faster and higher than any bird ever flew, and we will all bear witness to your great gift.”_

_The kestrel repeated his instructions. “I wait for you to come with King. Then I fly dressed as bunny.”_

_El-ahrairah returned alone to the warren, leaving Rabscuttle behind with the bird. In due course, King Darzin arrived wearing an expression of amusement. “So, where is this flying rabbit of yours? Perhaps he has flown away.”_

_“No indeed, Your Highness. He is not far. I will take you there now.” El-ahrairah led the King into the clearing, speaking loudly to alert Rabscuttle of their approach. “There he is now.”_

_Rabscuttle was running in circles, occasionally leaping up high in the air. King Darzin stood transfixed at the sight when suddenly the rabbit dashed into a clump of tall grass and took flight. El-ahrairah and the King watched the fur-clad imposter climb higher in the sky, his leaf ears blown back in the breeze until only his flower tail was visible. “But that’s impossible,” King Darzin mumbled in disbelief. “Rabbits can’t fly.”_

_“How can you doubt your own eyes? You clearly saw a rabbit in front of you. Did you not watch it fly away?”_

_The King had to admit he had although he could provide no explanation for how such a thing could occur. That night, he grudgingly allowed the children of El-ahrairah into his garden where they feasted on his cabbages until none remained. The kestrel was never seen again, but King Darzin would tell the story of the flying rabbit for the rest of his days._


	3. Chapter 3

The little band of rabbits huddled closely together, watching as an owl flew overhead. Earlier, they had caught the scent of a lendri, but it passed by them unseen, and after a time, they continued on their way. “Tell us again about the dog,” Blackavar asked nervously.

“It’s kept tied to a kennel in the yard. We must be careful not to awaken it,” Blackberry explained.

Pipkin added, “And the cats—don’t forget about the cats.” He looked about him as if expecting them to suddenly appear.

“A grown rabbit can stand up to a cat,” Groundsel declared. “Back in Efrafa, the Owlsla took on many of these smaller elil.”

“Oh yes, the Owlsla was brave when it was many against one,” Blackavar replied bitterly, his shredded ears drooping down about his face.

Groundsel was about to issue an angry retort but was interrupted by Blackberry. “There’s the farm.” They could clearly see the barn now as a cloud passed from in front of the moon. “I think you should stay here, Pipkin, and keep watch. Groundsel and Blackavar will come inside with me. Blackavar, you guard the door. Once we get the box open, we’ll bring Laurel out into the yard and get him away as quickly as possible.”

When everyone was clear on the plan, Blackberry, Groundsel, and Blackavar quietly hopped toward the barn, stopping every few seconds to look about and listen. They spied the dog asleep on its rope, but there was no sign of the cats that regularly patrolled the yard. The barn door was slightly ajar, and one-by-one, the three slipped inside. It took only a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim light before they spotted the box. Inside it were two black Angora rabbits studying them curiously. Blackavar took his place as sentry behind the door while the others approached the hutch. “Hello, Laurel. Do you remember me?” Blackberry asked.

“Yes. You came with Hazel the last time.”

“That’s right, and now we’re here to take you back with us if you still want to come.”

Laurel seemed unsure. “What happened to the others? There was a gunshot.”

Blackberry didn't tell him about Hazel’s injury. “We all made it back to the warren. Clover has a litter of kittens now, and Haystack and Boxwood are settling in nicely. They’d be happy to have you join us—and your doe too, of course.”

The box buck turned to his new mate, Daffodil, who had been listening carefully to the conversation. “What do you think?”

Laurel had spoken to her often of the wild rabbits who appeared one night, taking the others with them. He had repeated Hazel’s description of a high down with lush grass and warm burrows, where the elil were few and could be spotted a great distance off. “I-I think I’d like to go.”

“So would I,” Laurel agreed.

“Then we’d best get you out of there.” Blackberry began gnawing his way through the strip of leather holding the cage door closed. The work went much more quickly than the last time, and soon the hutch was open, and the Angoras were free. They seemed frightened and unsure what to do.

“Stay close to us, and run when we do,” Groundsel told them. He exited the barn followed by Blackberry and the box rabbits, with Blackavar bringing up the rear. Immediately they heard Pipkin stamping loudly as a calico cat rounded the corner, drawn to their scent. Before they could react, the cat descended on Groundsel, sending clumps of fur flying. Blackberry pushed roughly at Laurel and Daffodil who had gone nearly tharn. Pipkin joined them from his hiding spot, helping to urge the hutch rabbits along. By this time, the dog had heard the commotion and was barking furiously too. It was only a matter of time before the farmer would appear with his gun. The cat was still atop Groundsel who was bleeding badly, and it seemed the others might have to leave him behind.

Then Blackavar threw himself into the mêlée, digging his sharp claws into the cat’s back, causing it to screech in pain. It released its hold on Groundsel and turned to face its attacker instead. It swiped a paw across Blackavar’s nose, causing him to bleed profusely. Groundsel then sunk his teeth into the cat’s haunch while Blackavar continued attacking with his claws.

The cat wisely decided it couldn’t win against two such ferocious opponents and slunk away to lick its wounds. The light had come on in the farmhouse now, and the injured rabbits searched for cover. They limped into a thick row of high hedges nearby and watched from there. The farmer appeared with a torch and looked about the yard while the dog strained at its rope, still barking in their direction. After a time, the farmer seemed satisfied and ordered, “Enough now, Bob!” to the dog who whimpered in defeat and curled up in front of its kennel.

After some time passed, Blackberry, Pipkin, and the others entered the hedge. “Can you go on?” Blackberry inquired of the bleeding rabbits.

“I don’t think I can,” Groundsel admitted.

“Nor I,” Blackavar agreed.

They knew that the scent of fresh blood would soon attract elil. “We need to get you cleaned up and find a safe place to rest for a day or two,” Blackberry told them.

“But what about the box rabbits? They can’t be out in the open all that time,” Blackavar reminded him.

“Pipkin can take them on to the warren, and I’ll stay with you.”

“Me? On my own?” Pipkin squeaked. He looked nearly as terrified at the prospect as Laurel and Daffodil.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to do your best. You’d better set off now if you want to get back before daylight.”

Pipkin turned to the Angoras with more confidence than he felt. “Follow me.” The little rabbit hopped slowly away in the direction of Watership Down, the much larger hutch rabbits close behind, while the others watched their departure in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Blackberry, Groundsel, and Blackavar returned to Watership Down on the second morning after leaving the warren. The day had dawned crisp and cool, and the other rabbits were scattered about at morning silflay. Hazel himself was the first to spot them and dashed off to welcome them back. “We had nearly given up on you.” Then noting their injuries, he inquired, “What happened?”

Blackberry seemed puzzled. “It was a cat. We had to rest until they felt strong enough to continue. I thought Pipkin would have told you.”

It was then that Hazel realized that Pipkin and Laurel weren’t with them. “Pipkin isn’t here. We thought he was with you.”

“He went on ahead with Laurel and his doe while I stayed behind with the others. They should have been back yesterday.” Blackberry paused, exchanging a knowing look with Hazel. “Something must have gotten them along the way.”

Hazel felt sickened. Not only did the plan to rescue Laurel fail, but they had sacrificed one of their own in the attempt. The loss was all the greater as Pipkin was one of the rabbits who survived the long trek from the Sandleford warren. Quoting a rabbit proverb, he spoke, “My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today.”

The four were soon joined by several of the others, and the tragic news about Pipkin quickly traveled through the warren. Hazel went in search of Fiver, as the two small rabbits had been friends. He found his brother sitting up on his haunches staring intently across the down. “You’ve come to tell me about Pipkin and the two box rabbits, haven’t you?” Fiver asked before Hazel could speak.

How had he known about Laurel’s new mate? “Blackberry, Groundsel, and Blackavar just got back. Elil must have taken the others.”

Fiver ignored him and hopped way. Hazel, knowing his brother’s private nature, left him to himself. He saw Clover, Haystack, and Boxwood speaking together in hushed tones. In addition to Pipkin, they would also be mourning the death of poor Laurel. With a heavy heart, Hazel went below to escape into sleep.

Later at evening silflay, he approached Fiver again, silently nibbling grass beside him. “There was a fox,” Fiver declared suddenly, “but I can’t see anything else.”

***

The next morning broke gray and damp, and a dense fog enveloped the down. It was Bigwig who spotted them first, nearly hidden in the mist. He stamped loudly to alert the warren, causing a few rabbits to scurry for cover down the nearest hole. Hazel joined him but was unable to see anything at first. Then the fog parted enough to reveal three small spectral figures steadily approaching. The others crowded together, prepared to bolt if necessary, until someone observed, “Why, it’s Pipkin!” Several rabbits dashed off to greet him, touching noses and nearly knocking him over in their excitement.

Hazel waited patiently as the little party made its way toward him. He noted that they seemed uninjured but near exhaustion. “Go down now, Hlao-roo, and rest. You can tell us your story tonight.” 

Pipkin obeyed gratefully and led the hutch rabbits to an empty burrow below. He fell asleep immediately with the two larger Angoras pressed tightly on either side of him.

***

That night Fu-Inlé, the entire warren gathered in the Honeycomb to hear Pipkin’s tale. Laurel and Daffodil were positioned comfortably among the other hutch rabbits, still slightly dazed after their ordeal. Pipkin sat alone in the center looking small and uncomfortable with everyone staring expectantly at him. “We’re all anxious to hear about your adventure,” Hazel urged him, and several other voices added their encouragement as well.

“Well, there’s not much to tell really,” Pipkin began modestly. “After leaving the others at the farm, we went on alone. We hadn’t gotten far when we caught the scent of a homba.” 

The rabbits shuddered while Hazel and Fiver exchanged a knowing look. So there _was_ a fox. 

“We soon saw it, a female with a litter of kits.”

“I started back for the farm, but Pipkin came after me,” Laurel spoke. “He said the fox would certainly get me out in the open and our only hope was to hide until it moved on. He showed us how to dig so we could get underground.”

Pipkin resumed his narrative. “But the sound of the digging caught the attention of the fox, and we barely had time to go below before it found us. We heard it pawing at the loose earth above while we went deeper and deeper. Finally, we didn’t hear it anymore and slept. Evening came, but we were too frightened to silflay. The next morning, I went up, but it was there waiting, and I had to go back down again. I tried again that evening, but it was still there.”

“We were hungry and miserable and wishing we had never left the farm,” Daffodil interjected. “I think we would have stopped running then and there if it weren’t for Pipkin’s stories. He told us tales of a clever rabbit called El-Ahrairah who never gave up, no matter what. And he spoke about the journey you made from your old warren to this one with all the dangers you faced along the way.”

Pipkin continued, “That night, I went up and saw that the fox and its litter had gone. I got the others, and after a long silflay, we went on.” He didn’t mention how slow and frustrating their progress had been with the frightened Angoras in tow.

Laurel and Daffodil stepped forward. “I believe we would have given up if it weren’t for Pipkin constantly telling us how wonderful it would be here with all of you,” Laurel told the group.

“And he’s such a lovely little chap—always so polite—never scratching or biting,” his mate added. “We knew we couldn’t let him down.”

Hazel approached the embarrassed little rabbit. “Three cheers for Pipkin-rah,” he said, and all the others promptly joined in too.


End file.
